Statistics
by Feared-Director
Summary: or 1 000 000 simultaneously. Slash-ish.


a/n: Because this is my attempt to bring Ace back without mentioning The Dream.  
  
Because there are an infinite number of dimensions where every conceivable, and sometimes inconceivable possibility is played out, when Arnold Rimmer went off to be Ace, hundreds of thousands of millions of other Arnold Rimmers did too. And almost equal amount of Rimmers decided not to go. But, interestingly enough, only eight of them chose this course of action because they understood that a whole bunch of them were already out there.  
  
Sixty four perfect of the Rimmers that stayed would inevitably leave. Because there are just more possibilities that way. Not that they knew that.  
  
Thirty eight percent of the 'new' Aces would want to go home. Forty five percent would actually makes it.  
  
But, enough about them. Let's try to get back to the Ace we all know and love. Ahh.. smeghead turned hero. Lovely story. It's only happen a hundred million times already.  
  
This Ace is among that thirty-eight percent who wants to go home. He just doesn't know where home is. Millions of choices happen every day. There were billions of dimensions that he could, theoretically call home. But any of those might not be one sprouted for the single dimension he left.  
  
And he couldn't just settle in any old dimension that hadn't a Rimmer. That dimension's Rimmer might have left on his own accord, leaving the crew angry and hostile. He might have died.  
  
Actually, Arnold Rimmer had died quite a bit. Ace had seen thousands of dimensions where, during an action-packed adventure, he had managed to die (again). Aneurysm on Rimmerworld, murdered messily by is Lower self, a suicide brought on my the despair squid.  
  
Everytime he encountered his own second, and the crew's first, death he felt a wave of 'thank-god-I'm-alive'ed-ness. He and the 'posse' had been on a lot of life endangering adventures, hadn't they?  
  
Unfortunately, he was having a very difficult time locating a dimension to call home. He had just jumped into one that looked promising when something supposedly impossible happened. When an anomaly occurred. (Yes, I only wanted to use the word anomaly, smeg off.)  
  
He ran into another Ace.  
  
This Ace's ship was broken down, beaten up and, if scanner knew anything, was down to it's last twenty or so minutes of oxygen.  
  
A rescue mission, obviously. Ace set about rescuing himself and did so with ease and style.  
  
The other Ace, however, was a problem. He wasn't evil or crazy or anything. He was just very confused. Why was there another him? Why (again, thanks to scanners) was the other him a hologram with no 'H'? Hard light or otherwise.  
  
As it turned out this was one of the original Aces. Complete with real hair and all. He had been attacked by some type of GELF (pick one) and left for dead.  
  
So Ace had to explain to his original incarnation exactly what the hell he was doing. How he got to he where he was. Where he was planning on going. And so on.  
  
Ace (the Original Ace) was furious. Not only was this impostor pretending to be him... he didn't even want to keep doing it. He wanted to go home, the bloody coward.  
  
The two Aces had a row. A large row. A Huge Gynormus Row. During this row, exactly five hundred and thirty thousand alternate dimensions were created. But we'll attempt to stick with this one. Although I might have lost it in explaining this to you.  
  
They came to an agreement (although lots of other ones didn't), they would find a suitable dimension for Rimmer and leave him there. And Ace would go on his merry way with a new ship which is really his old ship from another dimension.  
  
Their search for an appropriate dimension seemed hopeless. Each time they found a Rimmer-free dimension, it wasn't the right kind of Rimmerfree.  
  
They found one where he'd been eaten by the Polymorph and Lister had died on the Psi-moon, crucified by his own guilt. Or another where the appeal in the Justice Field had been unsuccessful and the deranged Justice-obsessed computer had executed him.  
  
It seemed impossible. There were too many dimensions, too may ways for him to die. With each attempt Rimmer's hope grew smaller and smaller and his eyes sadder and sadder. Ace occasionally wondered why, but never pressed.  
  
Rimmer was ready to give up. And then Ace found it.  
  
A dimension, currently Rimmerless, a vessel, Starbug. Crew of four, two humans, one felinoid, and a mechanoid. All alive. Craft careening out of control towards a sun.  
  
First thing first, they rescue the ship. That done, they request docking privileged, which are readily given.  
  
This dimensions Lister was the only person in the hanger when they emerged from their craft.  
  
He was wearing a blue t-shirt.  
  
Ace wouldn't have noticed this except that Rimmer muttered it to himself, a smile slowly blooming on his face.  
  
And he tore off. Across the hanger, wig lost, full throttle. Into waiting arms.  
  
Ace raised an eyebrow. If memory serves these two didn't supposed to like each other.  
  
They proved him wrong. Without any forethought or discussion whatsoever they parted just enough to (noisily, in Ace's opinion) seal their mouths together for a good two minutes.  
  
After said two minutes they broke apart for air and conversations. Missed you. So glad you're/I'm home. Never leave again. Thank Io you/I remembered The Code. And so on.  
  
Ace had nothing to say. He was still in shock. But he understood now why Rimmer had wanted to come home so desperately. Over a year without the person you loved. Could drive you barmy.  
  
Ace took a moment to not think about any persons he might have loved and left behind. He needed his sanity now.  
  
With a wave and a catchphrase three million and twenty Ace Rimmer's went into the big black for more adventuring. 


End file.
